(7) Rules
by Sarcasticles
Summary: There was no rulebook on how to be a good slave, it was just something Koala had to figure out on her own.
1. No Escape

_Edit 1/9/16:_ Longtime readers will notice I've done some rearranging of chapters and edited accordingly. The story flows much better this way, and is much improved because of it.

* * *

Koala was in a cage.

It was a large cage, and she wasn't the only one trapped. All together there were eight women, plus herself. Koala was by far the youngest, the rest looking to be at least her mother's age. They all huddled together, some crying softly, while Koala sat back in a corner as far away from the rest as she could. She was confused, scared, and wanted her parents. But her parents were nowhere to be seen. It was just her, the other prisoners, and the Strangers.

Outside her cage was a line of men strung together like a group of horses. Koala had no idea who they were or why they were tied up. Now that the Strangers had left, they seemed to be arguing amongst themselves. They did so quietly. No one wanted the Strangers to return.

A violent cough erupted from a second, smaller cage. It held only one person, a little boy, the youngest of the whole group. He had been tied up with the men, but the moment he had begun sniffling two days ago the Strangers had pulled him out of the line and stuffed him away in a box so small he could hardly move.

" _Slavers_ ," one of the women wept bitterly. "How could this have happened to me?"

"Hush now," another said quietly. Amazingly, the kind-looking woman with brown hair and green eyes seemed calm. "My husband's a marine. He'll come looking. We won't be sold."

She said it with such confidence that Koala believed her, but the other woman scoffed. "You said that _weeks_ ago. We've gone two islands since then. Face it, we're at the mercy of whoever buys us."

The brown haired woman didn't argue, but set her face in a way that reminded Koala of her mother at her most stubborn.

"Aha!" one of the men exclaimed softly. Koala turned to see the man at the end of the line step away from the others. He had somehow managed to free himself, and was grinning madly.

"Well, hurry it up!" another said. "Get the rest of us!"

The free man's grin faded. He looked up and down the line, then to both cages. "I-I can't. There's no time, those bastards'll be back any minute—"

"Then we'll rush 'em! Just get us out of here!"

"I'm sorry," the man backed away slowly, looking stricken. "I-I'll get help, I swear. I just…I just have to look out for myself first. You'd do the same."

He ran away and didn't look back. Koala pressed her face against the bars. She didn't understand what had just happened or why all the adults were muttering amongst themselves, but she had to believe that help was coming soon and that her nightmare would be over. For weeks now she had been in a prisoner, most of that time chained in a ship. Now they were on dry land again, secluded on a rarely used path in the middle of nowhere, only allowed to exit the cage twice a day to use the bathroom.

"You're being very brave." Koala turned to see the woman with a marine husband smiling at her gently.

"Thank you," Koala said in her most polite voice. "Are the marines really coming?"

"Of course. Jackson…Jackson would chase me to the ends of the earth," she said softly, but her voice was strained. "My name is Iris, by the way."

"I'm Koala."

"Koala," she repeated, committing the name to memory. "It's a pleasure to meet you, although I wish it had been under different circumstan—"

"WHAT'S THIS?!"

Koala jumped as two of the Strangers returned, dragging the man who had escaped. His eye was closed shut and starting to swell, and blood trickled out of his nose. Koala tried to back away from the bars, but the other women blocked her way. Iris wrapped her arms protectively around her and stared stone-faced at the Strangers.

The prisoners went deathly silent, and one of the Strangers shook his head in disapproval. "Naughty, naughty slaves! You should know better than to run off into the dark, you might get lost."

As if he were rehearsing his lines for a play, the other said, "Ya know, boss, there's one in every group. And the rest think it's best to keep their traps shut. I don't get it."

"You're ab- _so-_ lutely correct. It's time these slaves learn Lesson Number One!" the Stranger dropped the prisoner onto the ground and pulled out a pistol out of his coat. Instead of shooting the escapee, the Stranger whipped around and faced the small cage holding the sick boy.

He didn't even have time to scream before the concussive report of the gun rang through the clearing. The force of the shot sent the boy backwards against the bars of the cage, and he slid into a limp heap.

"You bastard! He was a kid!"

"Who do you think is worth more, a sick runt or an able-bodied laborer?" the Stranger asked coldly, kicking the escapee in the ribs. "Put this one back with the others."

The Stranger rushed to do as he was told, and the man with the gun looked the group over. "Rule Number One: No escape attempts. We know every trick in the book. If anyone else tries, the girl'll meet the same end. I'm sure none of you wants the death of two children on your consciences." The Stranger gave each and every one of them a long, hard look. Finally his gaze settled on Koala, and he sneered. "And for God's sake, someone shut that brat up! It's annoying!"

It was only then Koala realized she was crying. She had never seen anyone get shot before, and the little boy's blood was beginning to pool on the ground. It was obvious he was dead; Koala could see the hole in his head. She could see his brains. And the blood, oh the blood, _everywhere_ … _spreading_ …she could see it even when she squeezed her eyes shut. Koala felt sick and couldn't stop crying, no matter what the Strangers said. She couldn't stop crying and they were going to shoot her, too, and she'd never see her mom again…

Strong arms enveloped her. Koala turned and grabbed Iris with all her strength. Burying her head in the older woman's chest, Koala muffled her screams.

* * *

 **AN:** So...new story. Yay! Unlike my other stuff, I actually have all of this one finished ahead of time, so barring some unforeseen disaster this will have regular updates. I'm thinking two or three times a week, but it all depends on how fickle I'm feeling at the moment.

For those of you who think I've formatted my title funny, you're absolutely correct. The plan is for Rules to be the first of a semi-connected group of stories - creatively dubbed the (7) Series - exploring different aspects of the slave trade/Celestial Dragons from the prospective of different characters. I'm currently working on the second part which features Otohime, and hopefully I'll someday get to write about Hancock and Fisher Tiger as well.

But that's way down the line. Right now poor Koala has a lot to learn before she can be an effective slave. Please review if you feel so inclined, I always enjoy the feedback and will respond if you have a question.


	2. Under the Radar

"What's going to happen to us?"

Iris shook her head slightly, looking straight ahead. They were now in the back room of an auction house, full of other people just as confused, scared, and angry as they were. The men were once again separated from the women, although they were mixed together with prisoners that had been brought in by other slavers.

"Looky here, fresh blood," a thickset woman said. She scratched her chin pensively, and Koala noted her hands were covered in fine, white scars. "Just in time for the sale."

"What can you tell us?" Iris asked quietly. "What do we need to know?"

The woman snorted. "That all depends on where you get sold. Different strokes for different folks, right? The general rule is to try and stay invisible. Go with the flow, and there's less chance someone'll wreck your face."

"That's your advice? Don't get in trouble?" Iris asked incredulously.

"No…I said it's best not to be seen at all." The woman smirked as she looked Iris up and down. "That shouldn't be too much of a problem for you, you're definitely not pretty enough for the Dragons. The kid might have problems, though. Some of those nobles like 'em little, if you know what I mean."

"That's disgusting," Iris said weakly.

"That's the truth," the woman retorted, settling back on the bench. "The only way to keep it from happening is to make her unappealing to the buyer."

Koala did not like where this conversation was going. Iris looked down at her desperately. "How?"

The woman told her, and Koala grew more and more afraid. In the end, Iris didn't have the strength to do it herself. Instead she held Koala's arms behind her back, and the other slave did it for her.

When the auctioneer came back, he was highly displeased. "What happened to her face?!"

Resisting the urge to touch her split lip, Koala looked at the ground. "I fell."

"Liar! Who did this? No one wants to buy damaged goods!"

"It's true, I saw the clumsy chit myself," the woman drawled. She leaned backward, hiding her scarred hands behind her head so the auctioneer couldn't see where Koala's tooth had cut into her knuckle. "Managed to whack herself right in the face, she did."

The auctioneer left in a huff, muttering about useless slaves and profit margins.


	3. A Harsh Realization

Koala and Iris were sold in a group of untrained, unremarkable humans as a laborers. They were then transferred, branded, and thrust into a world Koala did not understand. Whatever fate the scarred woman saved her from, it couldn't possibly be worse than what she was experiencing now.

The worst part was being separated from Iris upon arriving Mariejois. The estate of her master Saint Demos was absolutely massive, and he owned dozens upon dozens of slaves. Koala worked in a dark basement full of machinery, where her small frame and little hands made her the perfect person to squeeze into tight corners for cleaning and maintenance. Iris was in the kitchens.

Crying was not allowed, not even in the relative privacy of the barracks where she slept. The foremen had spies among the slaves, men and woman who were more than happy to trade information for small comforts. There was no one Koala could go to, no one to bandage her blistered feet after endless hours of hard labor, and no one to explain the rules.

"Line up, ya miserable rats!" one of the foremen shouted at the end of another day's work. Without speaking a word, the handful of slaves stopped their tasks and formed an orderly line.

Koala's stomach grumbled. She hadn't eaten anything all day and had been denied food as punishment the day before. Since being captured Koala had grown used to the feeling of hunger, but today it was so bad it felt like her stomach was trying to eat itself _._

But they were lined up and fed in order of seniority, and sometimes by the time it was Koala's turn there was nothing left.

A trio of slaves from the kitchen walked down the line, dishing out their supper. When Koala saw that Iris was one of them, she let out a sigh of relief. Iris always made sure Koala got some of the food.

"This iz it?" one of the slaves said, looking down at his bowl in disgust.

"I've got to make sure everyone gets their share," Iris said. She stared down the slave, but the man only sneered.

"Let 'em starve! Who cares if the brats don't get none? We're bigger 'n work harder! This pittance wouldn't sa'isfy a mouse!"

A teenage boy next to Koala bristled. "You ain't done nothin' but take credit for other people's work! Let the lady do 'er job, ya greedy pig!"

"You want some?!" the man shouted. "Well come 'n get it!"

Before the foremen could intervene, the man grabbed the cast-iron pot and threw it down the line. Those who had not yet been fed roared in fury as it crashed against the floor, gruel splattering in all directions.

The teenage boy rushed to the man and punched him in the face, and from there the brawl went out of control. Koala was quickly shoved to the ground, and she tried to protect herself from the mob as she crawled towards the protection of the machinery.

An errant kick caught her on the cheekbone, and she fell again. White spots danced on her vision, and it was all Koala could do to curl up into a ball as bodies flung around her.

Strong arms picked her up by her armpits. Koala screamed and struggled, but they only held on tighter.

"It's me." Iris's voice was calm and strong as the woman carried Koala to safety. Warm fingers brushed the hair out of her eyes, and Isis let out a hiss when she saw the damage.

"I-I'm okay," Koala sniffed, though she felt nothing of the sort. Tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes as she clung to Iris as hard as she could. But she remembered to smile. Not smiling wasn't allowed.

"Of course you are," Iris said quietly, voice barely audible over the chaos. "My brave, strong girl."

"I wish I could stay with you all the time," Koala whispered. She looked down, embarrassed. "I know I can't, b-but I wish I could."

The older woman did not respond, but her eyebrows drew together and she rubbed the piece of twine she wore in place of her stolen wedding band with her thumb.

Sudden emotion made Koala's throat tighten. "W-when's your h-husband coming? When are the m-marines going to save us?"

A gunshot went off as the foremen tried to retain order, and Iris's head bowed low as she twisted string on her left index finger. "Jackson…he's not coming."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said!" Koala flinched at the sudden outburst, and a look of pure heartbreak flashed across Iris's face and her eyes shone bright with unshed tears. "Koala, baby, no one's coming. We're all alone."

* * *

 **AN:** I did write my version of Koala's branding, and it can be read in chapter 6 of Sea Shanties and it's basically canon for this story as well. To make a long story short, it used to be a part of Rules, but I ran into some writer's block and wasn't sure I'd finish, so I cut that section out, removed all mentions of Iris, and turned it into a one shot.

As always, thanks for reading. Please drop a review if you feel so inclined. I like my feedback, positive or negative, so don't be afraid to say if you disagree or dislike something. It's the only way I'll improve.


	4. Wolves Watching Over Sheep

A few days later the afternoon shift was interrupted by the sounds of an argument. Koala tried to scrub the floor and listen as hard as she could at the same time. It sounded like foremen, and angry foremen were dangerous and unpredictable.

"We don't _need_ another kid!" one yelled. "What the hell were the buyers thinkin'? The one brat's more than enough. We need _men_ , strong men who can handle heavy lifting!"

"Don't go blaming the buyers for doing their job. There's clearly been a request put in for another child laborer sent from your department," a second man said. His voice was unfamiliar and smooth as butter. "No matter how much you howl, tomorrow there's going to be a boy coming down here for placement."

"How're we supposed to do our job if we can't get the right slaves to do it?" another snarled.

"Relax, Jonas, there's no reason to get upset. Surely if we work together we can find a solution." The smooth-voiced man snapped his fingers. "I know, how about a trade? One of my strong men for your girl. Then when the boy comes you'll have a place for him and everybody's happy."

"Happy?!" the first foreman exclaimed. "I just got this one trained, and you wanna take her away? How 'bout _you_ take the boy? How's that sound, Wolfe?"

"It sounds marvelous, but I'm afraid it's impossible. The paperwork's all in on the incoming bundle of slaves. You know how testy the higher-ups get when you try to change things after it's made all official-like." There was a pause. "So, do we have a deal or not?"

"Fine. Fine! Just take the kid and get out of my sight. If I find out who put in for another kid I'll slit their throat myself."

Koala redoubled her efforts as footsteps come her way, not daring to stop even as she scrapped her knuckles against the cement floor. A pair of shiny black shoes entered the edge of her vision, and the smooth voice told her to stop. She did as she was told, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Stand up," the man said.

Koala stood, risking a glance before settling her gaze firmly on her feet. He was a handsome man in a nice suit, tall, with dark, slicked back hair and a roguish smile.

"Hmm, you're a tiny little thing, aren't you?" he said. "My name is Wolfe, head manager of the kitchens. You're coming with me."

"Yes, sir," Koala said.

Wolfe crossed the distance between them in two steps and struck her across the face. Koala was not expecting the blow and fell to the ground, knocking over the bucket of sudsy water.

"I don't think I gave you permission to speak, slave," Wolfe said in that same smooth voice. "I won't tolerate such disrespect in my kitchens. Now get up. There's work that needs done."

* * *

It was in the middle of the after-lunch cleanup when they made it to the kitchens. Cookware and dishes of every variety sat in huge industrial sinks while slaves in white aprons and chef hats cleaned up their cooking stations. When Wolfe entered all conversation came to an abrupt halt as he surveyed the room.

Apparently satisfied, he nodded once and continued walking, Koala trailing close behind. They entered a second cooking area where six slaves were kneading bread. When Koala saw Iris among them she felt a wide, genuine smile spread across her face.

"Slave, come here," Wolfe commanded. Somehow they all knew he was talking to Iris, and she stopped her work and came to attention. A few strands of hair had escaped from her braid and sweat beaded her forehead, but otherwise she looked well. Sharp green eyes examined Koala and stared at where she had been struck. A tiny crease formed on Iris's forehead, causing guilt and shame to curl around Koala's insides.

"This is the new addition to our team. You have shown yourself to be a capable and diligent worker, and I am putting her under your care. Train her well. Her errors will be considered your errors, and her success your success. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Iris said quietly.

Wolfe smirked. Reaching over he cupped her face in a surprisingly tender gesture. "We have a deal," he said, voice low enough that none of the other slaves could hear. "I got you the brat. Don't forget what's owed in return."

Iris's stared straight ahead. "Yes, sir."

"That's my girl," Wolfe said. "Now get to work."

As he left, Iris clenched and uncleanched her fists while maintaining a tight-lipped smile. Sensing that something was very wrong, Koala reached up and grabbed her hand. "I'll work as hard as I can, I promise."

"I know you will," Iris said. She turned to face Koala, and held Koala's hand with both of hers. "Things are different here. You must always do as you're told and never complain."

"I know," Koala said, confused.

"I'm serious. There are times when the Celestial Dragons come here, and you must always be ready. I can't protect you from them." Iris blinked very rapidly like she was about to cry. Koala couldn't stand to see her so upset, so she looked at her hands instead. Even covered in flour and bread dough they were warm and kind, just like Koala remembered her mother's to be. Koala could never, ever imagine Iris striking someone with these hands.

But there was something missing. The twine wedding ring was gone. Koala opened her mouth to ask about it, but was cut off by a sharp shake of the head.

"There can be no pride here, Koala," Iris said, her voice hollow. "Whoever you were outside these walls is dead, and can never be again."

The way she said it made Koala think Iris wasn't talking to her anymore. There was a sadness in her voice that Koala had never heard before. All of Iris's strength and confidence was gone, leaving only empty sorrow in its place. The uneasy feeling in Koala's stomach worsened, but she forced a strained grin while nodding her understanding. She was with Iris and away from the basement and the brutish monsters who lived there. It the best situation she could imagine, and Koala was determined be happy enough for the both of them.


	5. The Cost of Disobedience

Koala was much too small to help cook, so her days in the kitchen were spent scrubbing, washing, and cleaning whatever she was told to scrub, wash, and clean. It was hard work for a girl who was not yet six years old, but she always did her best, even when her back ached and her hands bled and she was so exhausted she could hardly move.

But the hardest thing about working in the kitchen was always being surrounded by food without being allowed to eat any of it. The Celestial Dragons only consumed the highest cuisine, and their chefs were the best money could buy, but slaves were not allowed to eat this food for the same reason they were not allowed to breathe the same air as their masters: It was too good for them.

After every meal Koala would throw perfectly good food in the trash, because the Celestial Dragons would never lower themselves to eat leftovers, and slaves were not allowed table scraps. Instead, slaves ate bread and a small variety of simple yet hearty meals. It was enough to keep their strength up but never to satisfy. Gnawing pains in her abdomen kept Koala up at night and sapped her strength during the day. She would gaze longingly at pots full of simmering sauces and masterpieces made of spun sugar while her stomach grumbled loud enough to be heard on the other side of Mariejois.

Iris did what she could, but even she was incapable of soothing the hunger pains.

One night she was scraping plates when temptation overwhelmed her. Without thinking, Koala took a half-eaten drumstick and stuck it in the waistband of her pants. Koala paused, waiting for someone to ask what in the world she was doing, but nothing happened. Iris was out in the dining hall cleaning tables, Wolfe was nowhere to be seen, and everyone else was too busy to pay her any attention.

The giddy sense of relief was cut short by a crushing wave of guilt and anxiety that her deception would not last long. Koala's shirt was baggy enough to hide they mysterious bump in her pants, but any sudden movement might dislodge the drumstick.

And it wasn't like she could _eat_ the thing, not with so many people around. Koala's eyes darted back and forth looking for an escape. Her gaze settled on the pantry where the dry goods were stored. A lump formed in her throat at the thought of leaving her work unfinished.

But then her stomach reminded her the reason for her duplicity, and Koala gathered the courage to leave her station. She was risking a beating or worse, but she was so _hungry_ , and the meat looked so good…

Koala managed to slip into the pantry unnoticed. She rushed to a corner and savagely tore into the chicken, juice dribbling down her chin. Her lips smacked together loudly as she inhaled the drumstick, but she didn't care about the noise. It was _food_ , delicious and tender, and she wondered why she hadn't thought to try it sooner.

"What's this?"

Koala froze mid-bite as Wolfe stared at her through hooded eyes, taking in the evidence of her disobedience.

"Give it here, slave," he commanded, voice strangely calm. Koala shuffled forward, acutely aware of the grease staining her clothes and hands. Feeling small and dirty, she handed Wolfe the chicken bone and waited for him to hit her.

The blows never came. Instead he told her to get back to work, an order that Koala was all too happy to obey.

* * *

"Koala, what's wrong?" Iris whispered once she returned.

Koala shook her head, twisted, ugly shame rising within her. Iris would be angry at her for disobeying. She remembered Wolfe's words on her first day in the kitchen, and was sure Iris would be punished for her actions.

"Koala." Iris's tone was gentle, but underlined with steel. It was the voice Koala's mother used when she was in trouble, and the girl cringed.

"I did something bad," she said. "I was hungry so I...I took some. Wolfe saw, and now I'm in trouble. I'm sorry."

Iris's eyes widened and the color left her cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," Koala repeated, her voice tiny.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, but he saw."

"Okay." Iris nodded to herself. "Okay, I can work with this. Maybe I can…" her voice trailed off, and she looked at Koala intently. "I know you're sorry. I'm not angry with you, I promise, but you mustn't disobey again. Wolfe may not feel so generous a second time."

Koala nodded, feeling like she was two inches tall and about ready to be stomped on.

* * *

It didn't surprise Koala when she was denied breakfast the next day, nor when she was passed over for lunch and dinner. Wolfe watched her incessantly, berating her for every tiny mistake and working her into the ground, adding additional chores to her already impossible workload whenever she displeased him. That night she could barely crawl into her cot, and not even the hollow ache in her stomach could keep her awake.

Iris watched, too, but she didn't say a word. She couldn't, not unless she wanted to get in trouble as well.

When she wasn't served breakfast the day after that Koala nearly burst into tears. Her hands were red and raw from scouring the floor with scalding hot water, and she hardly had the strength to hold onto a rag, let alone polish anything with it. But Wolfe didn't allow her any reprieve. Between meals he had her cleaning ovens with a chemical that made her eyes burn and scrubbing soot marks off of the fireplaces.

On the third day without food, Koala began to run a fever. Her mind felt foggy and her heart thundered in her chest. Twice Wolfe hit her for being too slow, but she hardly felt it. It was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other while keeping the smile on her face. Darkness crowded on the edge of her consciousness, and Koala knew if she let it overcome her she would never escape it.

At that moment, she wouldn't have minded.

When supper rolled around a slave handed Koala a bowl of soup. She looked at Wolfe, who only smiled coldly. "Well hurry up and eat it. If you're not hungry I'm sure someone else will take your share."

Koala didn't need to be told twice. Ignoring her spoon, she brought the bowl to her mouth. The first drops of the steaming liquid hit her tongue when it was torn from her grasp.

The bowl clattered to the ground. A whimper escaped from Koala's throat as she looked up at Wolfe. The foreman loomed over her, his arm still outstretched from smacking the life-giving food away. Cruel malice danced in his eyes, and his smile widened.

"I told you to eat, slave. Are you going to disobey me?"

Koala looked at the soup that spread slowly on the floor that she worked so hard to clean, then to where Iris was standing statue-still, her green eyes boring into the foreman. Dropping to her knees, Koala uselessly tried to scoop it into her hands. Wolfe only laughed.

"No, no, no! You're doing it all wrong!" He grabbed her by the nape of the neck and rubbed her face in the soup like she was a puppy who had been caught making a mess in the house. "See, isn't that easier?"

Koala panicked as broth went up her nose and flailed against his grip. It was useless, of course, and after Wolfe released her, she coughed and coughed until she didn't have the breath to cough any more.

"Do you understand why this is happening to you?" Wolfe asked once Koala had gotten herself back under control.

"Yes, sir," she wheezed.

"Was it worth tasting the food of the gods?"

"No, sir."

"I'm glad we've come to an understanding. Now _eat_ , before I lose my patience," he commanded.

Ignoring the pit in her stomach, Koala lowered herself to her hands and knees. Slowly she bent her head down and lapped up the soup like the dog she was. The need to eat was stronger than any degradation or humiliation, even though it seemed like every eye in the kitchen was on her.

A moment later Wolfe crouched down beside her. "Lick up every drop, slave, with a smile on your face. Be grateful that there's someone who actually cares enough to keep your useless hide intact. But I'm warning you, if I catch even the _whiff_ of disobedience from you again I'll tear your stomach out through your nose. Brats like you are a belli a dozen. Don't ever think that I won't replace you the moment it becomes covenant, because I won't hesitate. Do you understand?"

Koala squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to pretend to be happy. Then she managed the two most important words of her vocabulary.

"Yes, sir."


	6. Above the Rules

As time went on Koala heard a great deal about the Celestial Dragons, but did not actually meet one for during her first several months as a slave. That suited Koala just fine; the stories surrounding the world nobles were nightmare-inducing, and she got the impression that even the mighty Wolfe was afraid of them. They were the boogeymen of Mariejois, scarier than any monster her child's mind could conjure.

Koala was washing dishes in one of the large industrial sinks when a slave burst into the kitchen. His face was pale and eyes wild as he said, "Everyone get ready, Dragons are coming!"

It sounded like a battle cry from a fairy tale, but the words could not have had more effect if there was an impending attack by a mythological creature. Pots and pans were put away, the materials being prepped for the supper meal thrown haphazardly wherever they could fit, and each slave stood at attention at their stations. Koala barely had time to put the stool she stood on in the cupboard under the sink when they entered the kitchen.

There were three of them, two adults and a child. Saint Demos and his wife Saint Kalma looked like someone's grandparents dressed in giant marshmallow suits. They both had bright eyes and rosy cheeks to match cheerful smiles that never wavered. The chubby boy that Koala didn't know was more sullen, blond bangs hiding his eyes.

"Ah, my precious slaves!" Demos boomed, clasping his hands together in front of him. "How good it is to see you today!"

Wolfe stepped forward and bowed deeply at the waist. "My apologies, Saint Demos. I wasn't expecting the pleasure of your presence this afternoon, or I would have prepared something for you."

"Oh, that's no worry," the Dragon said. "I this is merely a social call. I must ask, which one of my wonderful chefs prepared the onion soup today?"

One of the cooks came forward. "I-It was me, m'lord. I made the soup."

Saint Demos's smile widened. "Ah, it's one of my favorite dishes. Did you know that, slave?"

"N-No, m'lord, I didn't," the cook said. "Did…did you find it satisfactory?"

"Oh, it was delicious, some of the best I've ever eaten. Don't you agree, Kally?" Saint Demos said, turning to his wife.

"Quite good," she agreed.

The cook relaxed, and relief coursed through his whole being.

"However, my grandson Keres simply cannot stand onions. The poor boy came to give his Papa and Nana a surprise visit, only to be served something totally inedible. What do you have to say to that, slave?" Saint Demos's pleasant demeanor never faltered, but the silence that fell over the kitchen was deafening.

"I-I didn't know," the cook stammered. "I swear, I-I didn't know. Please, forgive me!"

Saint Demos pulled a gun out of his bulky clothes and shot the cook in the stomach. Koala flinched at the noise, and the man slumped to the ground. No one moved as the slave continued to beg for forgiveness, for mercy, for a second chance, swearing to God that he would do better if he just had another chance…

It was painful to listen the slave bleed out, his voice growing weaker and weaker until he finally fell silent. Saint Demos tucked his gun back into the folds of his suit and let out a contented sigh. He turned to Wolfe, eyes glittering with mirth. "Well, now that that's finished, show me around your venues. It's been too long since my last visit."

Wolfe bowed, complexion turning a delicate shade of green. "Of course, it would be my pleasure."

The foreman loosened his collar nervously as he blabbed about anything and everything that he could think of while leading his tour. Saints Demos and Kalma listened politely as they approached where Koala was standing. They did not notice Saint Keres lean onto a counter to examine a block of knives.

"Oh, look at this one," Saint Kalma exclaimed. "It's so little! Is it a dwarf?"

Koala looked to Wolfe for direction as the Dragon cooed over her. He gave a barely perceptible shake of the head, and Iris - just outside of the Dragon's vision - brought her fingers to the corners of her mouth and pulled them upward, reminding Koala to smile.

"It's no dwarf, my lady, only a human child," Wolfe said. "Though a bit on the runty side, I admit."

"Phooey," she said, sticking out her lower lip. "I've always wanted a dwarf. Haven't I always said I wanted a dwarf, Snookums?"

"Perhaps at the next auction, dear," Saint Demos said.

" _Hardly_. The quality of the sales these days makes it barely worth going! Why, Saint Balan said there hasn't been a mermaid in _ages_."

Saint Keres sauntered back to his grandparents. He looked at Koala, face screwed in concentration, then at the long filet knife in his hands.

"No, what we should do his hire our own hunter," Saint Kalma continued. "Eliminate the middleman, and get ourselves a whole collection of dwarves! It would be adorable!"

A sharp pain in Koala's arm drowned out the rest of the conversation. Confused, she looked down and saw a bright red stain spreading across the sleeve of her shirt. The cut wasn't deep, but it _hurt_ , and she could barely keep the smile on her face.

When Saint Keres saw her reaction he giggled. After a moment he raised the blood-stained knife very deliberately stabbed her a second time, this time in her side.

Koala gasped as Saint Kalma slapped his hand away, pushing the knife in deeper before it clattered to the ground. "Don't touch the slaves, Keres! You don't know where it's been. It might be diseased."

The Dragons walked onward as they scolded their grandson, leaving Koala to tend to herself. Iris fidgeted anxiously, but she couldn't do anything to aid Koala until the Dragons were gone. Koala pressed her hand to her side and blood stained her fingers. The room started to spin, and she leaned against the counter.

 _Smile. Keep smiling. Never stop smiling or you're dead. I don't want to die. Don't kill me. I'll be good, I promise. I'll work as hard as I can as long as I can, just, please, don't kill me._

 _Please._

Koala's knees buckled and she hooked her free arm around the sink to keep from falling. Tears sprung to her eyes, but she kept on smiling. If she could just hold on a little longer, then maybe she had a chance…

After what seemed like an eternity the three Dragons left. There was a collective sigh of relief, none greater than Wolfe's. He adjusted his tie as he addressed his staff.

"Well, that could have been worse. Clean this mess up and get started with supper. And for God's sake, no onions this time!" He glanced at Koala. "Someone get her to the infirmary. I expect her to be back before the rush."

Strong arms picked Koala up effortlessly, and the Iris carried her out of the kitchen. "I am so sorry," she whispered. "Just hold on. I'll get you taken care of."

"I want my mom," Koala gasped, tears streaking down her face. Her side and her arm hurt so badly, and she felt dizzy and weak. She was going to die just like that cook had just died, and no one would care because she was just a useless slave.

"I know you do, baby. I know," Iris said. Koala hiccupped and buried her head into the older woman's shirt.

"I wanna go home."

"And I wish I could take you there," Iris said, her voice cracking. A sharp medicinal smell assaulted Koala's nose as they entered the infirmary. She was laid on a cot and someone lifted up her shirt.

"What happened here?" the slave in charge asked as he prodded the wound.

"Dragons," Iris explained.

"Ah, well, I hope you learned your lesson," he said. "Tweak a Dragon's tail at your own risk. You're lucky you're not dead."

Koala wanted to argue that she _hadn't_ tweaked anyone's tail, but bit back the words. He was right; she had somehow made a mistake and provoked Saint Keres. She would have to be better.

The only problem was she had no idea what that mistake was, and she suspected that all the rules in the world could not save her from the insanity of the Celestial Dragons.


	7. Smiling Through the Tears

"How many packages do you see?" Iris asked.

Koala scanned the shelves of the freezer. "Twenty-two."

Iris quickly double-checked her work and nodded. "Very good. Your counting is coming along well."

Koala's cold cheeks flushed with pleasure. Before being captured, Koala's mother had taught her her ABCs and her numbers, and now Iris was taking the time to build on that foundation. An educated slave was a valuable slave, and even rudimentary skills in reading and figuring could help Koala get a better placement when she was older.

These lessons were done in secret. An educated slave was also a _dangerous_ slave, and the others already disapproved of how much time Iris spent with Koala. There was no telling what they would do if they found out the truth.

"Okay, what does this say?" Iris said, pointing to a cardboard box.

"K-Ke-P…Keep?"

"Yes. Now the second word."

"Fr-Fro-Fro-Z-N…Frozen. Keep frozen." Koala looked up expectantly at Iris.

The older woman patted Koala on the head, but the gesture lacked any real enthusiasm. "Good. Now let's get out of here and fill out the inventory sheet."

Koala nodded, but she couldn't help but be a little disappointed. Since Koala's run-in with the Celestial Dragons, the smile Iris presented while working barely qualified as a smile, and there were dark shadows under her eyes like she wasn't sleeping well. As the weeks passed, Iris became detached and distant. Always warm, always kind, but not engaged with the world around her.

They opened a door that led to the dry goods pantry, only to nearly run into Wolfe. He waved off their stammered apologies. "I was looking for you two anyway. The shipment's come in a day early. The boys are getting ready to deliver the goods in as well speak. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but it's going to throw off your inventory."

He didn't sound sorry at all, but Iris nodded respectfully. "Thank you for letting us know."

Wolfe's laughed and wrapped his hand around Iris's waist, rubbing his hand up and down her thigh in an intimate gesture Koala had only ever see her father do to her mother in the privacy of their home. Iris stiffened. "Not now," she hissed. "Not in front of—"

"Don't tell me what to do, slave," Wolfe said, smooth voice low and dangerous. Iris didn't respond, and his smirk exposed white teeth. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "That's what I thought."

Iris twisted away from the foreman and slapped him on the face, hatred flashing in her eyes. Time seemed to stop as they processed what in the world just happened. Iris stared at her hand, face ashen, as she realized the gravity of her mistake. She took a small step back, hitting the door to the freezer.

For a moment Wolfe was too stunned to move. He touched his face gingerly, a scowl marring his handsome features.

"I'm sorry," Iris whispered. "I didn't mean—"

Wolfe struck out blindingly fast, and Iris was on the floor in an instant. She groaned in pain as the foreman towered over her. "I have been more than kind, slave," he said, slowly taking off his belt as he spoke. "I don't even mind if you like to play hard to get. But we had a deal, and you've forgotten your place."

Fear kept Koala rooted in place as Wolfe brought his belt down buckle first against Iris's prone body. Again and again he whipped her until her strangled cries turned into broken sobs and crimson blood stained the thin material of her shirt.

It seemed like eternity until the blows slowed and eventually stopped. Wolfe finished with a savage kick to the ribs. Then he turned to Koala, breathing heavily. "You best run along, girl. The adults need to have a one-to-one chat."

"B-but…" A bestial glare cut through Koala's protests, and she rushed to get out of the pantry.

Wolfe grabbed her shirt as she tried to pass him. "One last thing. The two of you are getting much too close for my liking. I won't stand for any rebellion on my watch, do you understand?"

"Y-yes, sir!" Koala stammered.

"Good. Then you'll understand when I say that if I see the two of you talking to each other again, I'll kill you both. You've coddled the runt enough. It's time she earns her keep."

He stared coldly at Iris as tears welled in her eyes. Koala did not understand what was going on, but she recognized an order when she heard it. Wolfe let go of Koala's shirt and pushed her to the door.

Somehow Koala managed to stumble to the kitchen. The delivery men were waiting, each holding boxes of goods that needed to be stored. A burly man looked down at Koala with irritation. "What the hell is going on in there?"

A piercing scream sounded from the pantry before Koala could answer, and she looked up at him helplessly.

"Damn, he hasn't gotten that mad in a long time," a cook said.

"It's what she gets for making a deal with the devil," another muttered.

The burly man rubbed his neck and sighed. "Well, boys, we better find another place for this stuff. I don't think we're getting in there for awhile."

There were grumbles of agreement, and work resumed. Every once in a while someone would glance at the pantry door, but otherwise it was business as usual. Someone shoved a bucket of water and a brush in Koala's hands and told her to scrub the floor while another reminded her to smile, and by the time Wolfe exited the pantry it was as if nothing had even happened.

He scanned the kitchen as he adjusted his pants. Apparently satisfied, he nodded once and left without saying a word.

* * *

There was always a lull in the kitchens after the Celestial Dragons had been served the last course of their meal, and that night during supper Koala took advantage of it to go to the infirmary where Iris was being tended to. Despite Wolfe's warning, Koala couldn't stand not knowing whether or not Iris was going to be okay. By the time Wolfe was done with her, she was barely conscious and unable to walk under her own power, the memory of her bruised and bloody form enough to twist Koala's stomach into knots.

The truth was starting to become clear, and Koala knew what had happened was all her fault. Iris had only entered her mysterious deal with Wolfe to get Koala out of the basement, and she only did that because Koala selfishly said she wished they could be together. If Koala had been good, if she had just kept her mouth shut and done as she was told, Iris would not be hurt.

The infirmary was a small room with no windows and barely enough candles to see by. Only the worst of the worst injured dared come here, and many times they did not come back. On this particular evening there were only four slaves occupying the dozen cots, including the one in charge of treatments. He was passed out with a bottle of whisky in his hands, oblivious to the world.

Koala found Iris quickly and rushed to her side. The older woman appeared to be unconscious. She had not been changed out of her bloodied clothes and she lay on her stomach as to not aggravate the wounds on her back, some of which continued to ooze. The only thing that seemed to be treated at all was her head, which was wrapped up in white bandages stained red from a blow to the back of the head.

Something broke within Koala, and all the tears she had been able to keep penned up till now began to fall. This was her fault. It was _all_ her fault, and now they weren't even allowed to talk to one another. The tears fell harder as Koala realized what a wretched, spoilt child she was. She _deserved_ this. Kind, patient Iris did not.

A hand brushed the hair out of her face. "Don't cry."

Koala's eyes sprung open. "Iris?" she whispered.

"Shh. Are you hurt?" Iris's eyes were dull and her voice weak, but even though she had to be in incredible pain, she managed a small smile.

"N-no, but Iris—"

"Hush, baby girl. You shouldn't be here. If he finds you…"

Koala sniffed piteously. "No one saw me. I-I'll be okay."

Cool fingers wiped the tears from her eyes. "Of course you will. You're the strongest, bravest child I've ever met. You'll survive."

Something wet fell onto fell down Iris's cheek as she held to Koala's hand as hard as she could. "You're crying," Koala said quietly. "Y-you're crying and you're sad, and n-nothing I can do can make you happy."

"That's not true, baby girl. Watching over you is the only thing that's made me happy since coming to this hell. Now he's taken that away, just like he took everything else away." Iris released her and let her hand fall to the ground. "I'm sorry I couldn't be strong for you, Koala. Go back before he misses you. Smile big enough that he never suspects where you've been. Maybe…maybe someday we can meet again."

Koala wanted nothing more to stay right where she was. She wanted to know where Iris was going and beg to be taken with her. And as Iris closed her eyes for the final time, Koala wanted desperately to promise that she would be good forever and ever, if only they could stay together.

But that was against the rules, and Koala left the infirmary with a smile on her face, not realizing that the woman she loved like her own mother was dead.

* * *

 **AN:** I decided to post this ahead of schedule. I'll have the last chapter up tomorrow and an epilogue on Monday.

I don't normally beg for reviews, but I'd like feedback on this chapter especially. I ended up rewriting it a couple of times, and though Iris was always destined to die, how it happened has changed quite a bit from my first draft and I'd like to hear what you guys think.

As always, thanks for reading.


	8. Epilogue: Breaking Free

Koala did not know how long she had been a slave before the fateful night the alarm bells rang. It had been long enough for hard callouses to form on her hands and feet and long enough that she had perfected the art of false smiles. She was a veteran of the kitchens, a good enough slave to survive both Wolfe's terrible temper and the Celestial Dragon's unpredictable behaviors.

And inside she was dying, a little more each day.

The memory of her mother's loving touch was a distant, fading memory. Iris was dead, and with her Koala's only connection to her life…before. Before all the pain and misery, before the endless hours of hard labor, before fearing she would be killed for the crime of being unhappy.

But then one night the alarms sounded, and everything changed.

Koala ran blindly across the burning landscape of Mariejois. The city was on fire, and smoke burned her eyes. She didn't know where she was going, what was going on, or even what she was supposed to do. She should be in her barracks awaiting orders from her masters, but the barracks was gone, as was the kitchen and the basement and everywhere else she knew, destroyed by the devastating surprise attack.

Koala ran and did not stop, because stopping meant death. In their efforts to stymie the mass breakout, foremen had taken to shooting everyone in their path, whether they were actively trying to escape or not. She had passed the bodies of over a dozen slaves already, along with a few men in the dark suits that marked them as foremen.

What she was doing went against every rule that had been beaten in her during her time on Mariejois, and dozens of horrible images flashing behind her eyes as she imagined what would happen if she were caught. She suppressed them, and the violent urge to throw up.

In the distance someone started to scream. Koala covered her ears and forced herself to keep going forward. Every step she took was a step farther away from the people who wanted to hurt her. She was out of the city now and completely lost. Her home island might as well have been on a different planet entirely for all she knew how to get there.

She tripped on an unseen piece of rubble, and a sharp piece of stone cut through her pants and sliced her knee. But she couldn't stop. Koala forced herself to her feet and continued walking. A sign appeared out of the haze, a single word underscored by a giant arrow pointing to the right.

"D-Do-Ks. Docks."

Docks had ships, and ships meant freedom. Tears blurred Koala's vision and emotions she couldn't understand built within her with no place to escape. As Koala limped in the direction the arrow pointed she began to laugh. It started as a broken noise somewhere between a chuckle and a sob, but it grew into uncontrollable hysterics that she couldn't stop, even to breathe.

She wished Iris could be with her now. She wanted the sick little boy and the cook who made the onion soup to walk beside her on this path. Koala had endured so much since becoming a slave, but now there was hope that refused to be contained.

Someone had broken each and every rule of Mariejois, and because of it Koala was going to be free. No matter what else happened, that alone was cause enough to smile.


End file.
